Not Throwing Away My (One-)Shot
by wolfsblume
Summary: I was very inspired and wrote a couple of one-shots that don't have anything to do with each other. They're about different characters with different atmospheres. Hope you enjoy!
1. Say No To This

**I really really _love_ Hamilton. I had to write a one-shot. It was inevitable. **

**I know that it does not really make sense for him to actually leave the house while Eliza's home, but I thought it made it more dramatic. Also, English is only my second language, so I'd be glad if you could tell me if/where I made mistakes.**

 **Now, enjoy :)**

* * *

Alexander left his house and stepped out into the night. He smelled the cold air, soft wind, tender breeze. New York lay before him like a sleeping giant. He inhaled deeply and held his breath for a couple of seconds. With closed eyes he stood under millions of stars and tried to ban the bad feeling he had about what was about to happen. Again.

His love for Eliza was never in doubt, but he could not help himself out of the situation he was in. When he had first met Maria, on that fateful day, he had known. He did not love her, but there was this undeniable physical attraction that was more powerful than anything he had ever experienced before.

Slowly, he walked beside the dimly lit houses, trying not to attract attention. Someone was coming around the corner. Alexander lowered his head.

 _Please don't know me, please don't recognize me, please don't talk to me._

There could not be any witness seeing him when he visited her. It was bad enough that James Reynolds knew, and ever since he had received that letter, he felt even worse when he met up with her. She made him forget all of his remorse though, even if it only was for a couple of hours.

His thoughts drifted back to Eliza, his children, Angelica... She would never talk to him again if she found out that he was betraying her sister like this. A sting of pain pierced Alexander's heart. He almost stopped walking.

What was he doing here? Why did he leave his cozy home, his important work, his sleeping children, his amazing wife, just to commit a sin? He was not very religious, nevertheless knew that what he was doing was wrong. He wanted to turn around, run back home, but his feet carried him straight ahead, then around the last corner and the Reynolds' house was in sight. Only one window was lit, on the first floor. It was the bedroom.

Alexander felt like a crippled man, with the burden of his conscience on his shoulders. But as though he was pulled by a strange power, he kept walking towards the house, his eyes locked on the one lit window.

When he arrived at the door, where he had intended to drop Maria off the first time they had met, he took another deep breath. He closed his mind to the voices in his head that screamed at him to leave. He blocked them out, alongside his bad conscience about everything he had left a block away.

This had to stop, he knew that. Just not tonight.

He knocked.


	2. Your Obedient Servant

**This is my version of The Election of 1800 from Aaron Burr's point of view. I have to say I don't really know how the political election part went down but I imagined it like this.**

 **Here ya go. Again, I'm happy about constructive criticism.**

* * *

Aaron's guts seemed to be a single thick knot as he sat in the senate, awaiting the results of the presidential election. It would be a close race, that was for sure. Thomas and Aaron were both loved and hated by the people, though Aaron rather faced distrust while Thomas Jefferson was openly called a francophile and his policies were therefore doubted a lot. There was not much to doubt about Aaron. He was honest, but he never really told anyone what he was planning on doing. He was sympathetic, good-looking, and seemed approachable. That was enough for him. The people would see that he'd make a great president.

A man entered the room. He had a piece of paper in his hand. Aaron knew that the decision had been made. _Alea jacta est._ The dice had fallen.  
He could see from the corner of his eye how Thomas sat up straight in his seat on the other side of the room.

"This is the result of the presidential election of 1800", the man with the paper said, after making sure that he had everybody's unparted attention. _Pathetic,_ thought Aaron. Obviously, everybody in the room was dying to hear what he had to say. It was dead quiet, one could have heard a needle drop. "Um...", the man continued, and Aaron realized that he had grabbed the armrest of his chair so tight that his knuckles looked white. "It's a tie. Burr and Jefferson have the same amount of votes."

Aaron could have slapped him. Build up such tense suspense for nothing? Leave him hanging with that piece of nothing while he was waiting for the most important result of his life to be delivered to him?

Thomas seemed to have similar feelings. "What the hell, man? That's what you came here for? You're useless!"

The man awkwardly stuffed the paper into his pocket. "It's up to the delegates", he mumbled.

Aaron felt like banging his head on the table. What else would happen to delay the result? Then he thought of the delegates, most of which did not quite like him. His heart jumped. Would Jefferson win, now that it wasn't the peoples' choice anymore?

But surprisingly, half of the delegates voted for him. Every time his name was called by one of them, he held his head a little higher. In the end, though, it was still a tie. Only one member of the council hadn't spoken his mind yet.

"It's up to Hamilton", Aaron heard someone whisper.

Hamilton. Mixed feelings arose in Aaron's insides. Alexander had always been kind of a friend to him, and he _hated_ Jefferson! Sure, all that teasing about Aaron's attitude was annoying, and they had disagreed on lots of issues over the past thirty years, but Alexander and Jefferson had never ever agreed on anything _ever_. So he might even have a chance here! Every fiber of Aaron's body was tense, he couldn't wait for Hamilton's answer. _Come on, just get it over with quickly._

What a fool he had been. Alexander Hamilton never did anything quickly. To build suspense even further, Alex stood up and dramatically looked around before raising his voice. "Our country is facing a difficult choice", he said. _Goddamnit, man, get to the point._ "If you were to ask me who I promote-" _We obviously are, say my name, say it, say it..._ "-Jefferson has my vote."

Aaron felt like he was falling into a bottomless pit as a murmur went through the room. What? Did he just mispronounce Burr? It wasn't such a difficult word, Alex always seemed so clever, how could he make a mistake like this?  
But Aaron knew, Hamilton hadn't misspoken, and he hadn't misheard.

Hamilton endorsed Jefferson. How. Why. Aaron couldn't get himself to listen to Hamilton's speech that this arrogant bastard had obviously prepared beforehand. In disbelief, he stared at the man who had just betrayed him and did not even look sorry about it. He noticed that some men were looking at him as well, he felt a compasssionate pat on his shoulder, but he did not care. His disbelief turned into anger as he heard the end of Hamilton's unnecessary speech: "Jefferson has beliefs. Burr has none."

Aaron's eye caught Thomas' who looked no less surprised by Hamilton than Aaron himself. There was joy in Jefferson's look, too, Aaron would have loved to punch it put of there.

But well. _Don't show your weaknesses, Burr._ "I look forward to our partnership", he said and offered Jefferson his hand. It took all the self-control he could raise.

But Jefferson only looked at his outstretched hand and then at his face looked at him with a mix of confusion and disgust. "Our... partnership?"

"As your vice president", Aaron clarified.

Thomas Jefferson let out a loud roaring laugh. "No way, Burr. You openly campaigned against me and now you want to be partners again? No way!"

Aaron shot him a looked that would have killed Jefferson instantly had he seen it. He turned around to leave and blow off some steam when Thomas called him back. "Burr! If you see Hamilton, thank him for the endorsement!"

That was enough. Aaron was boiling inside. His face turned red as he left the room looking as calm as he could, his hands clenched into fists.  
This was all Hamilton's fault. Oh, that man would pay.


End file.
